Sisters First: Stories from Our Wild and Wonderful Life

by Jenna Bush Hager

he wanted to teach us that it was the family moments, the light moments, and the joyous moments, on which we should make our lasting memories.

“I promise. There are very, very few things worth worrying about.”

A kind man once told me that in Japan, broken pottery is pieced back together using gold as the glue, highlighting the cracks, making them beautiful. And maybe that could be my heart—hurt and healed, but filled with gold because I’d known Kyle.

Sometimes friendship is about opening your eyes to new places; sometimes it’s about making sure that you don’t see too much.

“I love you. There’s nothing you can do to make me stop loving you. So stop trying.”

I look into the faces of the people I see: family, friends, colleagues, strangers, and I know that we are all, each of us, born to be someone’s love story.

Dad is motivated by the concept that “to whom much is given, much is expected.”

On birthdays in her family, rather than being showered with presents and treated as someone special, you were asked to make the case of why, in the previous year, you had lived the best year that you could. You did get a cake, but first you had to share what you had done for other people and how you had contributed.

You are here for a reason, and you should be grateful for every year, and be ready to do the most with the next one.

You have each other, I thought to myself. You can walk through this wild and wonderful life together. You will fight, yes. And you will adapt to each other’s quirks, but you will do it together. You will make your sister feel like she is enough. And for me, your mama, well, that is enough. More than enough. That is everything.